The Electronics Whisperer (Matsumiya) (remix)
Title: The Electronics Whisperer
Rating: PG
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Matsumiya
Warnings: None
Notes: I hope I did the original fic justice. This was a lot of fun to write.
Link to Original Story: In which Aiba has a coin slot
Link to Original Writer: g_esquared
For jentfic_remix Cyclin 9 found here.
thoroughlynerdy, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.
It occurred to Nino when he was very young, young enough to think that a NES was something new and special and wonderful, though he would always love the Fanicom, that electronics had personalities. His best friend’s NES didn’t care how roughly you shoved the cartridge into it, but his was temperamental. He had to blow on the cartridge just right, and coax it in there just so in order to get anything to play, but it was worth it.
Electronics with personalities seemed drawn to Nino, or he was drawn to them. It just took him the first 18 years of his life to figure it out.
Though he was skilled with them to be sure, it was only a matter of time before Nino figured out what made them tick and how to get them to behave, and that was how he got into mechanical sales and distribution. He scoured Tokyo for the vending machines (soda, panties, food, alcohol, anything and everything), and if he was drawn to something, he bought it, and then sold it. There was not a machine he could not sell.
The service contracts on his machines were pricier than most, but his machines were m ore temperamental than most, but they all performed to expectation, and their quirks usually didn’t manifest for anyone who wasn’t Nino.
However, from the moment he had seen the revolutionary Aiba model of vending machine, which served both hot and cold beverages in one, he knew that this one was special, and the way that it just stood there in the hall of reflective mirrors and shiny machines trying blend in, as if Nino would not be able to see him.
From that point, Nino knew that Aiba would be a handful.
#
When Nino installed Aiba he didn’t think anything of the 10th story office building that made the purchase, though he was glad they bought the two-year service contract without trying to bargain him down. He hated when his machines went to cheapskates given how much time and effort he put into making them tick and figuring out what their quirks were. Aiba’s, he was still not certain of, but it couldn’t be anything that would make them return it. His vending machines were never quirky enough to be returned.
He didn’t think much of anything until he heard before he saw the personal assistant to the executive on the floor. Much like Nino could tell with machines, he could tell with this man, named Jun (as he would come to find out later), has something about him that Nino liked. His impatience during the installation was obvious, as he hovered, tapping of his toes in impatience and shooting glances at his watch, and the watch on the wall. Usually Nino did not like overly involved customers, as he preferred to do his own thing, but the man’s relieved sigh as the machine dispensed both a coffee and a diet coke, which he did not hesitate to open and finish in three gulps (which impressed Nino more than he would ever admit), was all enough to draw Nino’s attention to the man. But he paid the other no mind, making sure the Aiba machine was up and working, and that the water cooler beside it wouldn’t somehow short circuit Aiba, and left his number plastered on the front of the machine, and as he slipped Jun a card of his personally, he was gone.
#
Nino was never one to actively pursue machines, or people, or anything else really. Things came to him. So he would just have to wait until he had to do something in response to Jun.
The knowledge that the machines would reveal themselves and desires to him in time shaped the way that Nino lived. It was why restocks were perhaps not on as strict a schedule as one might wish, but if he didn’t pay his video games enough attention very bad things happened to his save files. He had gone through three XBOXs in one month alone, because they kept red ring of deathing on purpose because Nino was too busy to play Halo on them, and that had been enough of a reason. He gave them a stern talking to, and explanation that when they red ringed, they went to the dump, and no one wants that, so behave -- or else-- and that had been the end of it. But Nino didn’t want to take too many chances since he was not really a taking chances kind of guy.
If the instinctual feeling that Jun was something special, and something worth having, was correct he would reveal that to Nino. He was certain of it. Things always revealed themselves to him, if they wanted to be found. Nothing good had ever happened to Nino when he pursued it, it was only when he sat back and let the world happen to him that good things occurred.
He was sure that Jun would not be an exception.
#
The part of Nino that admitted he was attracted to Jun, the personal assistant with nice hips and a nice face and very impatient hovering with restocks would never admit that he was sad when Jun was not hovering near the machine waiting for the aforementioned restock. Nino had once quipped to Jun that ‘If Matsumoto-san would drink less diet coke it would not be an issue’ and Jun had snapped back that ‘it was not the maintenance and stocker’s job to comment on what he was drinking, your job is to restock the machine’.
He was also sad when Jun was not hovering when he had to repair things after some idiot had tried to use American coins in the very Japanese machine. But the other part knew that when Jun was ready, things would happen. He would wait.
At the same time, he still didn’t quite know what made Aiba tick. He had a vague idea, but it was just an idea.
It was during a restock that the machine had come alive; jingling the coins inside the machine, his internal gears whirring and whizzing in excitement, and Nino knew that something or someone had caught its attention, but it settled down immediately after. When it happened Nino had paused, glancing around. “What the hell, crazy machine.” he muttered, but there was fondness in his voice.
He had started to doubt that Aiba was a special machine, but Nino had never been wrong before and was glad he wasn’t now.
#
At first, when Nino got the call he wasn’t paying a lot of attention. It was budget season or something, so he was doing a lot more restocks than normal as they were drinking a lot more caffeinated beverages than normal. In spite of that, he didn’t answer immediately, taking care to land Mario safely on a ledge before he answered the phone.
“Ninomiya’s Vending Services, how can I help you?” He answered with his standard greeting.
“Ninomiya,” Jun said curtly. “You had better have a very good explanation for this one.”
Well that was not what he expected. “What’s the crazy machine done this time?” It was the only reason that Jun would be calling with that kind of question, and that sharp of a tone.
“The Coke costs two bloody thousand yen,” Jun said. “It’s a hundred and fifty one block from here.”
Nino took a moment to think about it, leaning back in his chair and taking care not to knock the controller off of his coffee table as he propped his feet up onto the table. “So buy it one block from here.”
Nino could hear the malice in Jun’s voice. “Your vending machine is not indispensable,” he said. “You are not indispensable.”
“Scary,” Nino commented lightly, hoping that Jun couldn’t hear the amusement in his voice. He did enjoy these exchanges so. “Look, I just restocked a week ago. And I have orders to service machines in Hokkaido.” Which was not untrue. He just wasn’t leaving until the next day.
“That is ridiculous and obviously untrue. I can hear your game music in the background.”
Nino sighed. All work and no play makes Nino a very unhappy man. “You can’t expect me to overwork. I’ll be by when I can. Bye!”
#
When Jun called again Nino was still at the Hokkaido airport, waiting for his flight back.
None of the usual pleasantries were exchanged.
“You’re affecting my performance report,” Jun hissed. “Even the next block is catching on. They’re charging a hundred eighty now.”
“You sound like a woman,” Nino said, but he made a note that he would be stopping by the next day. It wouldn’t do to have Jun so mad at him that he never wanted to speak to him. And it would make getting the man muchharder.
#
It was late when Nino arrived the next afternoon, but he was tired from all the travel, and needed to make sure he was caught up on beauty sleep for Jun, though you couldn’t tell since the brim of his baseball hat was pulled down low over his eyes, hiding both his bed head and his amazing face. He was buzzing with energy as soon as he saw Aiba. Something about the machine looked different today. Nothing specific, perhaps just the way his frame caught the lights in the room, or perhaps it was the slight increased brightness in his display,
Something would change today, he was sure of it.
“’Sup,” he commented tipping his baseball cap at Jun.
“Your machine hasn’t sold a thing all week,” Jun informed him, toes tapping in impatience on the ground.
It was one of the many things that Nino found attractive about Jun.
“The coffee powder is half gone,” Nino reminded him. “We remain your unrivalled provider of cheap, delicious coffee.” His said, lips quirking into a smirk at Jun’s reaction. “Keeps your boss happy, right?”
Jun rolled his eyes. “Just fix it.”
Nino unlocked Aiba, and took a moment to fiddle with the display. Nothing seemed out of order with Aiba. So he still didn’t know what made him tick. “There,” he said. “Back to normal.”
“Thank you.” Jun said with an air that betrayed his impatience.
Why was the man so deliciously attractive?
“Expect the bill for maintenance services,” Nino knew his smile was wide, and his voice cheerful. Jun’s sputtering reaction was just too adorable. He couldn’t resist it. “Alternatively, you could buy me a drink.”
“This is corporate fraud,” Jun said, indignant, his hip moving out just a bit more as he placed a hand there and glared at Nino.
“Call it what you like, I’ll have a Pepsi.” Nino grinned, and was pleased that Jun didn’t say no.
Aiba winked at him, and Nino winked back.
#
Nino had the manners, and the brains, not to try anything with Jun during their first Pepsi date, though he did want to. He was still impressed with the sheer quickness that Jun could finish a soda, though it might be that he really liked the way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, or when his head was tilted back to reveal the nice lines of his neck, but it was far too soon to be acting on any of those thoughts.
Though he did have them.
And he had found the best toy ever recently to take care of that, when the problem arose, which it did, often, and it reminded him of Jun. Enough that he nicknamed it Junnosuke, which seemed to make it happy, as every time he moaned Jun, or Junnosuke, the vibrations pulsed just a little more in line with the rhythm of his thrusts, and it was usually enough to send him over the edge.
Junnosuke was the best purple vibrator he had ever found.
And who needed to actually have sex when you could find toys with personality. It was a legitimate question, Nino was certain.
Except that Junnosuke, while good, very very good, was not enough. Nino wanted Matsumoto Jun.
If he could get him.
#
Nino’s coffee maker was named Kuro. Kuro only made plain, black coffee, just the way that Nino liked it. He joked that it was black, like his heart, but his heart wasn’t black. A little grey and dusty from having semi-sentient machines as friends rather than people, but not black.
In contrast, his toaster was named Shiro. Shiro would warm his toast, but never actually toast it. Which most people would think was a failure on an appliance, but as he had discovered Shiro did not like the burnt crumbs that would accumulate when it would toast the bread.
When he would come home, he could sense his electronics perking up trying to tune into him and his mood. Would it be a “kill shit” night if he was angry, or would he watch variety TV until his eyes blurred. Or would he just go to bed, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day. It was nice to have the humming of life in his apartment responding to his presence, but it was not a ‘tadaima’ and an ‘okaeri,’ though he was sure there was a machine for that as well.
But Nino was finally beginning to think that he didn’t want a machine for that when there could be a person instead. Perhaps with distinct hips, eyebrows, and a sense of style and self assurance that had Nino shrinking back into his hat and uniform and his machines.
Machines were safer, easier. He understood them.
But they were cold. And dead by most people’s standards.
#
Except they were not dead, as evidenced by the sheer number of times that Jun called to complain about Aiba. It seemed that he was acting stranger than usual which was saying something as he was already, even by Nino’s standards, a bit strange. Mostly because he could not yet figure out what was making Aiba tick. But Jun’s most recent phone call gave Nino hope of solving the mystery.
Nino flipped open his phone on the second ring since answering Jun’s calls more quickly always seemed to improve the other mans mood. “Ninomiya’s vending services. This is Ninomiya, how can I help you today?” Nino made sure to be professional, something else that Jun seemed to like.
“Get over here,” Jun snapped through the line and Nino held in a sigh. It was going to be one of those days. And it never made things better if Jun could tell that Nino was rolling his eyes over the phone. Jun hung up shortly after that and Nino decided that it was in the best interest of his budding relationship with Jun to get over to the company as soon as possible.
And from the surprise on Jun’s face when he walked into the building half an hour later was worth it.
“It’s eaten all my damn change.” Jun hissed while storming up to Nino. “I will not be embezzled by a vending machine. Much less yours.” Nino wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, ‘much less his?’ It isn’t like he programmed Aiba to be a pain in Jun’s ass. That was his job, and hopefully not a pain. Unless Jun was into that sort of thing. Which would be interesting.
“Calm down.” Nino waved a hand at Jun, strolling over to Aiba and looking at him with a critical eye. There are no dents in him, it doesn’t look like he been kicked, or punched, or tipped over or anything.
“Look, you.” He pitched his voice low. Talking to a machine was crazy by most standards, even if your machines were sentient. “I don’t know what you are up to, but couldn’t you just drop it? Literally? In the coin return box?”
Nino was pleased when Aiba listened to him and coins began falling into the coin return. And then onto the floor, flowing and flowing until Nino was sure that there was no change left in the machine. They had an audience by the time Aiba was done, and Nino couldn’t help but smirk.
He really was the best at what he did.
Jun looked faint behind him, and a man with sloping shoulders, Jun’s boss possibly based on the coffee cup in his hand, were staring at the mess. Another man with a wide smile and frazzled look was staring at Aiba with wide eyes.
“Cool. The fucking machine’s possessed.”
Which wasn’t quite true, but it was easier to not have to explain it to people. They never understood.
Nino walked over to Jun, taking him by the elbow and pulling the man away. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink this time.” Pulling Jun gently with him, Nino scooped up a pile of change from the floor.
“Green tea on the house everyone!” He didn’t like to eat into his profits, but he also didn’t like the pale shocked look on Jun’s face. But he would be sure to comfort the man, who had not shaken off his gentle grip on his elbow yet.
There just might be hope.
#
Nino had iPod’s for different times of the day. One would only play j-rock until noon, then nothing. Another only played Vivaldi and Holtz until 5pm. His after 5pm iPod was full of nothing but videogame music and had no personality at all. Nino preferred it that way. Video games were serious business.
Sometimes, he just wanted an electronic device to do what it was fucking made to do without having to bargain, cajole, or threaten. His electronics had very unique personalities when they had them, and it was a challenge learning to work around them, and remember what made which ones tick. But they were his friends, which if he ever stopped to think about, was sad.
Which was why, when he did think about it, he just got online and played Halo. He had a group that he regularly played with on there. A group of ‘Real People’, even if he didn’t know them personally.
Which was also sad when he stopped to think about it. Which was pretty much never.
His Mom had learned years ago to never mention the fact that Nino should perhaps make some real friends.
#
Nino can tell that something would happen. Aiba’s issue with the change had to be an indicator of something else, Nino was just not sure what. Nino was tempted to think that someone was mistreating the machine, though there had been no signs of that. There were also not even any American coins snuck in. Nino had investigated that first off, and it turned out one of the other floors had an employee that liked to attempt to use American coins to get soda. Aiba, it seemed, never dispensed sodas to him, even when he had correct Japanese coins, and while this Akanishi character had tired to complain to Jun, Jun had waved it off with a shrug.
“Use the machine on your own floor, and use proper change then.”
Nino had only found this out from Toma, who had overheard Akanishi talking to Jun. Ever since the change incident, when Nino would stop by, Toma would chat with him. He had a healthy reverence for Aiba now, and wanted to stay on Aiba’s maintenance guy’s good side, just in case.
When Jun called Nino answered as soon as he got to the phone, diving across video game controllers scattered over the couch without even bothering to pause his game.
“I will be there in twenty.” And he hangs up, waving a hand at the video games.
“Save and turn yourselves off for me?” He asks, scrambling to the door, and he can hear things powering down, an excited buzz in his wake. Apparently his games liked that he was starting to focus his attention elsewhere.
Interesting.
Nino was there in fifteen, and he ignored Jun, heading straight for Aiba. Nino was almost tingling in excitement. Today was it, he could feel it. He would figure out what made Aiba tick.
“Listen up, if you don’t put a cork in it I’ll have to send you to the scrap heap.” Which was a lie, Nino would never do that to one of his machines, but he was pleased when he heard the gears in Aiba change pitch, and the lights flicker slightly.
Good, he had his attention.
“What is it you want? Tell me. I specialize in vending machine psyches.” Also a slight lie, but Jun was close enough now to be able to hear him, as was evidenced by his next comment.
“That’s really fucking weird,”
Nino’s entire life was fucking weird.
Nino ignored him. “Are you upset? Are you jammed by a foreign coin? Is your polyurethane foam insulation wearing out?” He couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Jun at that point, wondering if the other was impressed by his knowledge, but the snort and eye roll indicated anything but being impressed.
“I know you are special Aiba, but I can’t help unless I know what is wrong.” Nino pitched his voice so that Jun couldn’t hear, and in response Aiba’s motors and gears whined at a higher pitch. With a sigh, since he had no other choice, Nino unlocked Aiba, and reached a hand inside to prod and poke around. Everything seemed ok.
Until he reached for the coke.
Aiba shuddered, the coins rattling in the holder, the lights flickering in what Nino was sure Aiba meant to be ominous and threatening.
“Whoa,” Jun says. “If it eats you it won’t be on my head.”
“My machine won’t eat me.” Nino commented back lightly.
Nino cannot help but smile at Aiba, letting go of the Coke can and patting Aiba gently, Aiba settled down as soon as he let go of the Coke, and Nino looked to Aiba again, his voice the quietest whisper. “Thank you. It will be ok.” Nino turned to Jun, after closing Aiba, and he was sure that he was grinning like an idiot. “It’s the Coke. It’s attached to the Coke.”
“So what are we supposed to do? Exorcise it?”
Nino could not help but laugh. His Jun (well not his in anything other than his mind) was cute when he was mystified. “Just. don’t. buy. the. coke.” It was an obvious solution to the problem, and the sign he pasted on the machine was enough to have Toma (he had finally learned the intern’s name. They even had a Pepsi together once, and traded numbers) nodding in agreement.
It was only as he walked away, overjoyed that he had figured out what made Aiba tick, that he paused, horror crossing his features.
A sentient Coke? Fuck. That couldn’t be right. It would make drinking soda much more like murder. There was no way the Coke can was alive. It wasn’t even electronic.
He needed a drink. Badly.
And to his surprise, when he messaged Toma indicating that they should go get drinks, Toma agreed.
His first guys night out. Ever.
#
Dinner and drinks with Toma, as well as the discovery that Aiba was infatuated with a fucking Coke can, gave Nino the courage to make a move on Jun. First part of the plan, make himself available all the time. Loitering in Jun’s office, sipping a can of Pepsi and leaning against Aiba was not the best way to spend his days, or to highlight is many assets, but Toma would come and chat when he had time, and Jun would walk by, sending him looks, until eventually he broke and came up to Nino.
“I was thinking,” Nino said. “Your vending machine could do with some company. They get lonely, you know.” Though it was obvious that he meant “I could use come company, because I am lonely.”
Jun was apparently a little dense.
“Why are you here?”
Jun was also apparently frazzled as his hair looked like hands had been run though it several times that day in frustration, and he was holding a stack of papers in a folder that was much too small for what he was trying it use it for.
“You’ve been here every day this week. We aren’t out of anything. Who are you depriving of vending machine service now?”
Nino pouted. Jun was really dense. “I rush through my dispatches to be here in the afternoons,” he says. “Are you aware of how much effort it takes for me to rush?” It was a lot of effort. He and to hurry, and sweat, and had even almost thrown out his back hefting pallets of sodas and snacks around.
Part of the reason that he had any courage at all was that he had managed to get Toma to impart in his drunkeness, that as far as he knew Jun wasn’t seeing anyone. A friend of his in the office, Shun, who worked on a different floor, had come down one day and tried to prod Jun into going on a group date, and while Toma hadn’t been able to hear everything that was said, he did know that Jun did not go on the group date, as women weren’t really his style. But he could have heard wrong.
“Quite,” Jun says dryly. “We really aren’t going to rent any more machines. I don’t think Sakurai-san particularly wants to purchase ladies’ underwear during tea break.”
Nino couldn’t help but giggle at the image that presented. Jun and Sakurai at the machine trying to determine what it was that they wanted to buy -- it made him smile, though it would never happen.
“Careful,” Nino teased. “People don’t say ladies’ underwear at work.” He was pleased when a blush covered Jun’s cheeks, highlighting those defined cheekbones, even as he perched his free hand on his hip, carefully trying to manage the stack of papers with the other.
“You get better at being annoying every day.” Was all he could manage to retort, and the picture that he presented in his tie and button down, expression stern with the trace of a blush on his cheeks, Nino just snapped.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” is all the warning that Jun got before Nino reached forward, pulling Jun to him, crushing the folder between them as he moved up onto his tip-toes to kiss Jun.
He had heard the whirring of the machine, and he knew that the lights were flashing in what he was sure was lewd encouragement, but all he could feel was the tension of Jun beneath him, before he relaxed into the kiss, mouth opening to allow Nino’s exploring tongue. It was Jun who broke the kiss, lips swollen slightly, looking flushed and pushing Nino away.
“My papers are all over the floor. And the vending machine is winking at us.”
Nino’s grinned feeling on top of the world, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint it.”
Jun rolled his eyes, “You put the loose in ‘loose change’,” he told Nino, but that didn’t stop him from sending Nino a text later, suggesting drinks.
Nino said sure, and after the message sent, smileys and rainbows and fireworks flashed across the screen of the cell.
Seems everyone is happy, man and machine alike.
He even decided to wear his skinny jeans since he knew he looked good in them. And besides, he wanted to show Jun that he was more than just the maintenance guy, he was Jun’s maintenance guy.
Life, he was certain, would only look up from this point.
Rating: PG
Group/Pairing: Arashi/Matsumiya
Warnings: None
Notes: I hope I did the original fic justice. This was a lot of fun to write.
Link to Original Story: In which Aiba has a coin slot
Link to Original Writer: g_esquared
For jentfic_remix Cyclin 9 found here.
thoroughlynerdy, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you.
It occurred to Nino when he was very young, young enough to think that a NES was something new and special and wonderful, though he would always love the Fanicom, that electronics had personalities. His best friend’s NES didn’t care how roughly you shoved the cartridge into it, but his was temperamental. He had to blow on the cartridge just right, and coax it in there just so in order to get anything to play, but it was worth it.
Electronics with personalities seemed drawn to Nino, or he was drawn to them. It just took him the first 18 years of his life to figure it out.
Though he was skilled with them to be sure, it was only a matter of time before Nino figured out what made them tick and how to get them to behave, and that was how he got into mechanical sales and distribution. He scoured Tokyo for the vending machines (soda, panties, food, alcohol, anything and everything), and if he was drawn to something, he bought it, and then sold it. There was not a machine he could not sell.
The service contracts on his machines were pricier than most, but his machines were m ore temperamental than most, but they all performed to expectation, and their quirks usually didn’t manifest for anyone who wasn’t Nino.
However, from the moment he had seen the revolutionary Aiba model of vending machine, which served both hot and cold beverages in one, he knew that this one was special, and the way that it just stood there in the hall of reflective mirrors and shiny machines trying blend in, as if Nino would not be able to see him.
From that point, Nino knew that Aiba would be a handful.
#
When Nino installed Aiba he didn’t think anything of the 10th story office building that made the purchase, though he was glad they bought the two-year service contract without trying to bargain him down. He hated when his machines went to cheapskates given how much time and effort he put into making them tick and figuring out what their quirks were. Aiba’s, he was still not certain of, but it couldn’t be anything that would make them return it. His vending machines were never quirky enough to be returned.
He didn’t think much of anything until he heard before he saw the personal assistant to the executive on the floor. Much like Nino could tell with machines, he could tell with this man, named Jun (as he would come to find out later), has something about him that Nino liked. His impatience during the installation was obvious, as he hovered, tapping of his toes in impatience and shooting glances at his watch, and the watch on the wall. Usually Nino did not like overly involved customers, as he preferred to do his own thing, but the man’s relieved sigh as the machine dispensed both a coffee and a diet coke, which he did not hesitate to open and finish in three gulps (which impressed Nino more than he would ever admit), was all enough to draw Nino’s attention to the man. But he paid the other no mind, making sure the Aiba machine was up and working, and that the water cooler beside it wouldn’t somehow short circuit Aiba, and left his number plastered on the front of the machine, and as he slipped Jun a card of his personally, he was gone.
#
Nino was never one to actively pursue machines, or people, or anything else really. Things came to him. So he would just have to wait until he had to do something in response to Jun.
The knowledge that the machines would reveal themselves and desires to him in time shaped the way that Nino lived. It was why restocks were perhaps not on as strict a schedule as one might wish, but if he didn’t pay his video games enough attention very bad things happened to his save files. He had gone through three XBOXs in one month alone, because they kept red ring of deathing on purpose because Nino was too busy to play Halo on them, and that had been enough of a reason. He gave them a stern talking to, and explanation that when they red ringed, they went to the dump, and no one wants that, so behave -- or else-- and that had been the end of it. But Nino didn’t want to take too many chances since he was not really a taking chances kind of guy.
If the instinctual feeling that Jun was something special, and something worth having, was correct he would reveal that to Nino. He was certain of it. Things always revealed themselves to him, if they wanted to be found. Nothing good had ever happened to Nino when he pursued it, it was only when he sat back and let the world happen to him that good things occurred.
He was sure that Jun would not be an exception.
#
The part of Nino that admitted he was attracted to Jun, the personal assistant with nice hips and a nice face and very impatient hovering with restocks would never admit that he was sad when Jun was not hovering near the machine waiting for the aforementioned restock. Nino had once quipped to Jun that ‘If Matsumoto-san would drink less diet coke it would not be an issue’ and Jun had snapped back that ‘it was not the maintenance and stocker’s job to comment on what he was drinking, your job is to restock the machine’.
He was also sad when Jun was not hovering when he had to repair things after some idiot had tried to use American coins in the very Japanese machine. But the other part knew that when Jun was ready, things would happen. He would wait.
At the same time, he still didn’t quite know what made Aiba tick. He had a vague idea, but it was just an idea.
It was during a restock that the machine had come alive; jingling the coins inside the machine, his internal gears whirring and whizzing in excitement, and Nino knew that something or someone had caught its attention, but it settled down immediately after. When it happened Nino had paused, glancing around. “What the hell, crazy machine.” he muttered, but there was fondness in his voice.
He had started to doubt that Aiba was a special machine, but Nino had never been wrong before and was glad he wasn’t now.
#
At first, when Nino got the call he wasn’t paying a lot of attention. It was budget season or something, so he was doing a lot more restocks than normal as they were drinking a lot more caffeinated beverages than normal. In spite of that, he didn’t answer immediately, taking care to land Mario safely on a ledge before he answered the phone.
“Ninomiya’s Vending Services, how can I help you?” He answered with his standard greeting.
“Ninomiya,” Jun said curtly. “You had better have a very good explanation for this one.”
Well that was not what he expected. “What’s the crazy machine done this time?” It was the only reason that Jun would be calling with that kind of question, and that sharp of a tone.
“The Coke costs two bloody thousand yen,” Jun said. “It’s a hundred and fifty one block from here.”
Nino took a moment to think about it, leaning back in his chair and taking care not to knock the controller off of his coffee table as he propped his feet up onto the table. “So buy it one block from here.”
Nino could hear the malice in Jun’s voice. “Your vending machine is not indispensable,” he said. “You are not indispensable.”
“Scary,” Nino commented lightly, hoping that Jun couldn’t hear the amusement in his voice. He did enjoy these exchanges so. “Look, I just restocked a week ago. And I have orders to service machines in Hokkaido.” Which was not untrue. He just wasn’t leaving until the next day.
“That is ridiculous and obviously untrue. I can hear your game music in the background.”
Nino sighed. All work and no play makes Nino a very unhappy man. “You can’t expect me to overwork. I’ll be by when I can. Bye!”
#
When Jun called again Nino was still at the Hokkaido airport, waiting for his flight back.
None of the usual pleasantries were exchanged.
“You’re affecting my performance report,” Jun hissed. “Even the next block is catching on. They’re charging a hundred eighty now.”
“You sound like a woman,” Nino said, but he made a note that he would be stopping by the next day. It wouldn’t do to have Jun so mad at him that he never wanted to speak to him. And it would make getting the man muchharder.
#
It was late when Nino arrived the next afternoon, but he was tired from all the travel, and needed to make sure he was caught up on beauty sleep for Jun, though you couldn’t tell since the brim of his baseball hat was pulled down low over his eyes, hiding both his bed head and his amazing face. He was buzzing with energy as soon as he saw Aiba. Something about the machine looked different today. Nothing specific, perhaps just the way his frame caught the lights in the room, or perhaps it was the slight increased brightness in his display,
Something would change today, he was sure of it.
“’Sup,” he commented tipping his baseball cap at Jun.
“Your machine hasn’t sold a thing all week,” Jun informed him, toes tapping in impatience on the ground.
It was one of the many things that Nino found attractive about Jun.
“The coffee powder is half gone,” Nino reminded him. “We remain your unrivalled provider of cheap, delicious coffee.” His said, lips quirking into a smirk at Jun’s reaction. “Keeps your boss happy, right?”
Jun rolled his eyes. “Just fix it.”
Nino unlocked Aiba, and took a moment to fiddle with the display. Nothing seemed out of order with Aiba. So he still didn’t know what made him tick. “There,” he said. “Back to normal.”
“Thank you.” Jun said with an air that betrayed his impatience.
Why was the man so deliciously attractive?
“Expect the bill for maintenance services,” Nino knew his smile was wide, and his voice cheerful. Jun’s sputtering reaction was just too adorable. He couldn’t resist it. “Alternatively, you could buy me a drink.”
“This is corporate fraud,” Jun said, indignant, his hip moving out just a bit more as he placed a hand there and glared at Nino.
“Call it what you like, I’ll have a Pepsi.” Nino grinned, and was pleased that Jun didn’t say no.
Aiba winked at him, and Nino winked back.
#
Nino had the manners, and the brains, not to try anything with Jun during their first Pepsi date, though he did want to. He was still impressed with the sheer quickness that Jun could finish a soda, though it might be that he really liked the way his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed, or when his head was tilted back to reveal the nice lines of his neck, but it was far too soon to be acting on any of those thoughts.
Though he did have them.
And he had found the best toy ever recently to take care of that, when the problem arose, which it did, often, and it reminded him of Jun. Enough that he nicknamed it Junnosuke, which seemed to make it happy, as every time he moaned Jun, or Junnosuke, the vibrations pulsed just a little more in line with the rhythm of his thrusts, and it was usually enough to send him over the edge.
Junnosuke was the best purple vibrator he had ever found.
And who needed to actually have sex when you could find toys with personality. It was a legitimate question, Nino was certain.
Except that Junnosuke, while good, very very good, was not enough. Nino wanted Matsumoto Jun.
If he could get him.
#
Nino’s coffee maker was named Kuro. Kuro only made plain, black coffee, just the way that Nino liked it. He joked that it was black, like his heart, but his heart wasn’t black. A little grey and dusty from having semi-sentient machines as friends rather than people, but not black.
In contrast, his toaster was named Shiro. Shiro would warm his toast, but never actually toast it. Which most people would think was a failure on an appliance, but as he had discovered Shiro did not like the burnt crumbs that would accumulate when it would toast the bread.
When he would come home, he could sense his electronics perking up trying to tune into him and his mood. Would it be a “kill shit” night if he was angry, or would he watch variety TV until his eyes blurred. Or would he just go to bed, hoping that tomorrow would be a better day. It was nice to have the humming of life in his apartment responding to his presence, but it was not a ‘tadaima’ and an ‘okaeri,’ though he was sure there was a machine for that as well.
But Nino was finally beginning to think that he didn’t want a machine for that when there could be a person instead. Perhaps with distinct hips, eyebrows, and a sense of style and self assurance that had Nino shrinking back into his hat and uniform and his machines.
Machines were safer, easier. He understood them.
But they were cold. And dead by most people’s standards.
#
Except they were not dead, as evidenced by the sheer number of times that Jun called to complain about Aiba. It seemed that he was acting stranger than usual which was saying something as he was already, even by Nino’s standards, a bit strange. Mostly because he could not yet figure out what was making Aiba tick. But Jun’s most recent phone call gave Nino hope of solving the mystery.
Nino flipped open his phone on the second ring since answering Jun’s calls more quickly always seemed to improve the other mans mood. “Ninomiya’s vending services. This is Ninomiya, how can I help you today?” Nino made sure to be professional, something else that Jun seemed to like.
“Get over here,” Jun snapped through the line and Nino held in a sigh. It was going to be one of those days. And it never made things better if Jun could tell that Nino was rolling his eyes over the phone. Jun hung up shortly after that and Nino decided that it was in the best interest of his budding relationship with Jun to get over to the company as soon as possible.
And from the surprise on Jun’s face when he walked into the building half an hour later was worth it.
“It’s eaten all my damn change.” Jun hissed while storming up to Nino. “I will not be embezzled by a vending machine. Much less yours.” Nino wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, ‘much less his?’ It isn’t like he programmed Aiba to be a pain in Jun’s ass. That was his job, and hopefully not a pain. Unless Jun was into that sort of thing. Which would be interesting.
“Calm down.” Nino waved a hand at Jun, strolling over to Aiba and looking at him with a critical eye. There are no dents in him, it doesn’t look like he been kicked, or punched, or tipped over or anything.
“Look, you.” He pitched his voice low. Talking to a machine was crazy by most standards, even if your machines were sentient. “I don’t know what you are up to, but couldn’t you just drop it? Literally? In the coin return box?”
Nino was pleased when Aiba listened to him and coins began falling into the coin return. And then onto the floor, flowing and flowing until Nino was sure that there was no change left in the machine. They had an audience by the time Aiba was done, and Nino couldn’t help but smirk.
He really was the best at what he did.
Jun looked faint behind him, and a man with sloping shoulders, Jun’s boss possibly based on the coffee cup in his hand, were staring at the mess. Another man with a wide smile and frazzled look was staring at Aiba with wide eyes.
“Cool. The fucking machine’s possessed.”
Which wasn’t quite true, but it was easier to not have to explain it to people. They never understood.
Nino walked over to Jun, taking him by the elbow and pulling the man away. “Come on, I’ll buy you a drink this time.” Pulling Jun gently with him, Nino scooped up a pile of change from the floor.
“Green tea on the house everyone!” He didn’t like to eat into his profits, but he also didn’t like the pale shocked look on Jun’s face. But he would be sure to comfort the man, who had not shaken off his gentle grip on his elbow yet.
There just might be hope.
#
Nino had iPod’s for different times of the day. One would only play j-rock until noon, then nothing. Another only played Vivaldi and Holtz until 5pm. His after 5pm iPod was full of nothing but videogame music and had no personality at all. Nino preferred it that way. Video games were serious business.
Sometimes, he just wanted an electronic device to do what it was fucking made to do without having to bargain, cajole, or threaten. His electronics had very unique personalities when they had them, and it was a challenge learning to work around them, and remember what made which ones tick. But they were his friends, which if he ever stopped to think about, was sad.
Which was why, when he did think about it, he just got online and played Halo. He had a group that he regularly played with on there. A group of ‘Real People’, even if he didn’t know them personally.
Which was also sad when he stopped to think about it. Which was pretty much never.
His Mom had learned years ago to never mention the fact that Nino should perhaps make some real friends.
#
Nino can tell that something would happen. Aiba’s issue with the change had to be an indicator of something else, Nino was just not sure what. Nino was tempted to think that someone was mistreating the machine, though there had been no signs of that. There were also not even any American coins snuck in. Nino had investigated that first off, and it turned out one of the other floors had an employee that liked to attempt to use American coins to get soda. Aiba, it seemed, never dispensed sodas to him, even when he had correct Japanese coins, and while this Akanishi character had tired to complain to Jun, Jun had waved it off with a shrug.
“Use the machine on your own floor, and use proper change then.”
Nino had only found this out from Toma, who had overheard Akanishi talking to Jun. Ever since the change incident, when Nino would stop by, Toma would chat with him. He had a healthy reverence for Aiba now, and wanted to stay on Aiba’s maintenance guy’s good side, just in case.
When Jun called Nino answered as soon as he got to the phone, diving across video game controllers scattered over the couch without even bothering to pause his game.
“I will be there in twenty.” And he hangs up, waving a hand at the video games.
“Save and turn yourselves off for me?” He asks, scrambling to the door, and he can hear things powering down, an excited buzz in his wake. Apparently his games liked that he was starting to focus his attention elsewhere.
Interesting.
Nino was there in fifteen, and he ignored Jun, heading straight for Aiba. Nino was almost tingling in excitement. Today was it, he could feel it. He would figure out what made Aiba tick.
“Listen up, if you don’t put a cork in it I’ll have to send you to the scrap heap.” Which was a lie, Nino would never do that to one of his machines, but he was pleased when he heard the gears in Aiba change pitch, and the lights flicker slightly.
Good, he had his attention.
“What is it you want? Tell me. I specialize in vending machine psyches.” Also a slight lie, but Jun was close enough now to be able to hear him, as was evidenced by his next comment.
“That’s really fucking weird,”
Nino’s entire life was fucking weird.
Nino ignored him. “Are you upset? Are you jammed by a foreign coin? Is your polyurethane foam insulation wearing out?” He couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Jun at that point, wondering if the other was impressed by his knowledge, but the snort and eye roll indicated anything but being impressed.
“I know you are special Aiba, but I can’t help unless I know what is wrong.” Nino pitched his voice so that Jun couldn’t hear, and in response Aiba’s motors and gears whined at a higher pitch. With a sigh, since he had no other choice, Nino unlocked Aiba, and reached a hand inside to prod and poke around. Everything seemed ok.
Until he reached for the coke.
Aiba shuddered, the coins rattling in the holder, the lights flickering in what Nino was sure Aiba meant to be ominous and threatening.
“Whoa,” Jun says. “If it eats you it won’t be on my head.”
“My machine won’t eat me.” Nino commented back lightly.
Nino cannot help but smile at Aiba, letting go of the Coke can and patting Aiba gently, Aiba settled down as soon as he let go of the Coke, and Nino looked to Aiba again, his voice the quietest whisper. “Thank you. It will be ok.” Nino turned to Jun, after closing Aiba, and he was sure that he was grinning like an idiot. “It’s the Coke. It’s attached to the Coke.”
“So what are we supposed to do? Exorcise it?”
Nino could not help but laugh. His Jun (well not his in anything other than his mind) was cute when he was mystified. “Just. don’t. buy. the. coke.” It was an obvious solution to the problem, and the sign he pasted on the machine was enough to have Toma (he had finally learned the intern’s name. They even had a Pepsi together once, and traded numbers) nodding in agreement.
It was only as he walked away, overjoyed that he had figured out what made Aiba tick, that he paused, horror crossing his features.
A sentient Coke? Fuck. That couldn’t be right. It would make drinking soda much more like murder. There was no way the Coke can was alive. It wasn’t even electronic.
He needed a drink. Badly.
And to his surprise, when he messaged Toma indicating that they should go get drinks, Toma agreed.
His first guys night out. Ever.
#
Dinner and drinks with Toma, as well as the discovery that Aiba was infatuated with a fucking Coke can, gave Nino the courage to make a move on Jun. First part of the plan, make himself available all the time. Loitering in Jun’s office, sipping a can of Pepsi and leaning against Aiba was not the best way to spend his days, or to highlight is many assets, but Toma would come and chat when he had time, and Jun would walk by, sending him looks, until eventually he broke and came up to Nino.
“I was thinking,” Nino said. “Your vending machine could do with some company. They get lonely, you know.” Though it was obvious that he meant “I could use come company, because I am lonely.”
Jun was apparently a little dense.
“Why are you here?”
Jun was also apparently frazzled as his hair looked like hands had been run though it several times that day in frustration, and he was holding a stack of papers in a folder that was much too small for what he was trying it use it for.
“You’ve been here every day this week. We aren’t out of anything. Who are you depriving of vending machine service now?”
Nino pouted. Jun was really dense. “I rush through my dispatches to be here in the afternoons,” he says. “Are you aware of how much effort it takes for me to rush?” It was a lot of effort. He and to hurry, and sweat, and had even almost thrown out his back hefting pallets of sodas and snacks around.
Part of the reason that he had any courage at all was that he had managed to get Toma to impart in his drunkeness, that as far as he knew Jun wasn’t seeing anyone. A friend of his in the office, Shun, who worked on a different floor, had come down one day and tried to prod Jun into going on a group date, and while Toma hadn’t been able to hear everything that was said, he did know that Jun did not go on the group date, as women weren’t really his style. But he could have heard wrong.
“Quite,” Jun says dryly. “We really aren’t going to rent any more machines. I don’t think Sakurai-san particularly wants to purchase ladies’ underwear during tea break.”
Nino couldn’t help but giggle at the image that presented. Jun and Sakurai at the machine trying to determine what it was that they wanted to buy -- it made him smile, though it would never happen.
“Careful,” Nino teased. “People don’t say ladies’ underwear at work.” He was pleased when a blush covered Jun’s cheeks, highlighting those defined cheekbones, even as he perched his free hand on his hip, carefully trying to manage the stack of papers with the other.
“You get better at being annoying every day.” Was all he could manage to retort, and the picture that he presented in his tie and button down, expression stern with the trace of a blush on his cheeks, Nino just snapped.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” is all the warning that Jun got before Nino reached forward, pulling Jun to him, crushing the folder between them as he moved up onto his tip-toes to kiss Jun.
He had heard the whirring of the machine, and he knew that the lights were flashing in what he was sure was lewd encouragement, but all he could feel was the tension of Jun beneath him, before he relaxed into the kiss, mouth opening to allow Nino’s exploring tongue. It was Jun who broke the kiss, lips swollen slightly, looking flushed and pushing Nino away.
“My papers are all over the floor. And the vending machine is winking at us.”
Nino’s grinned feeling on top of the world, “Wouldn’t want to disappoint it.”
Jun rolled his eyes, “You put the loose in ‘loose change’,” he told Nino, but that didn’t stop him from sending Nino a text later, suggesting drinks.
Nino said sure, and after the message sent, smileys and rainbows and fireworks flashed across the screen of the cell.
Seems everyone is happy, man and machine alike.
He even decided to wear his skinny jeans since he knew he looked good in them. And besides, he wanted to show Jun that he was more than just the maintenance guy, he was Jun’s maintenance guy.
Life, he was certain, would only look up from this point.